favourite football team, and a film heâd been to see last week at the
Odéon
. Louis suddenly realized that Papa looked tired. He had more lines on his face than Louis remembered, and although he was smiling and nodding at Max with enthusiasm, he looked distant. Then Papa caught Louisâ eye and winked.
âHowâs my dancing boy?â
Louis smiled. âGood. Iâve got another competition next weekend in Rouen, on a proper stage and everything. Madame Dubois is going to take me. Luc and Aurélie are coming too. Maman canât make it, so will you come?â
âOf course! Have you managed to nail the triple turn yet?â
âYes, and my balletâs got pretty good now. Madame Dubois has been really pushing it because she says itâs the basis of all forms of dance.â
Max made a snorting noise. Louis glared at him. âItâs not funny! Balletâs really hard â you have to be so strong. Itâs a sport just like football.â
âMadame Dubois told Maman that Louis is better than all the girls in his class,â Millie pitched in. âShe says heâs a natural at ballet.â
âAre you not too intimidated by the girls?â Papa asked Louis with a smile.
âNo, theyâre all right. Anyway, Iâm not the only boy in the class â Luc does it too.â
They walked through the quiet streets of Rueil in the late-afternoon sunshine, Papa carrying Millieâs rucksack over his shoulder. When they reached his flat on the third floor of an old stone house that stood on the corner of Rue de Rivoir, Millie went charging down the narrow hallway to the kitchen and Papa set her rucksack down by the door. The flat still looked exactly the same as when Papa had first moved in over a year ago. It still had that slightly musty, closed-away smell and, apart from a portable TV, a laptop and a hastily erected clothes rail, contained none of Papaâs belongings at all.
In the kitchen, Millie mixed chocolate powder into cold milk, Max switched on the telly and rocked back on one of the kitchen chairs with his trainers up on the table, and Louis helped Papa unpack the three shopping bags on the sideboard. A baguette and a carton of orange juice, a lettuce, some tomatoes, and two frozen pizzas. Louis was surprised. That wasnât nearly enough food tolast them all weekend. Max ate like a horse and Millie lived on biscuits. And Louis knew for a fact that Papaâs fridge would be completely empty and the dustbin crammed full of ready-meal packets.
âAre you taking us away somewhere for the weekend, Papa?â
Papa looked startled for a moment. Then he cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows and said, âYes, yes â how did you guess?â
Millie put down her spoon, splashing chocolate milk onto the table. âEuroDisney?â she breathed, her eyes wide.
âNo, darling, not EuroDisney, not this time.â
Millieâs face fell.
âBut somewhere else. Somewhere â different.â
âWhere?â Millie demanded. Maxâs gaze shifted from the television screen. Even he suddenly seemed interested.
âUm â well â Iâm not going to tell you,â Papa said. âItâs going to be a surprise.â
Millie clapped her hands together. âI love surprises! When, Papa? Today? Are we going to stay there overnight? Will there be a swimming pool?â
âWeâre going to leave tomorrow,â Papa said, turning on the oven and unwrapping the pizzas. âEarly. Veryearly. So I want us to have dinner now and then go to bed. Weâre going to skip
goûter
and have pizza and salad instead. Then weâre going to hit the sack at eight.â
âAre you joking?â Maxâs eyes widened in outrage. âI canât go to sleep at eight!â
âWhat sack?â Millie wanted to know. âWhy do we have to hit a sack?â
âItâs an expression,â Louis